#And with Nimble is Trick!

[melchinafan]

SKILL UNLOCKED, KNITTING ABILITY LEVELED UP

So I've been knitting a fair bit as of late, all sorts of shenanigans and funky little things and a thousand fancy plans. Only some stuff finished thus far, but a fair bit of learning new building blocks going on.

And in a fit of pique while trying to get some ridiculously tiny dense pointy picots out of a purlwise cable cast on base, being mad that my normal purling (wrapping the yarn counter-clockwise) made the yarn have to cross SO FAR to get back up to the needle, I just...crossed the yarn up clockwise instead, and it was so much better. Distracted from the picot situation by how well it worked, I wondered why it's not the norm, did a quick search, and...

Found I had accidentally stumbled upon combination knitting? Which (for flat stockinette and the like) involves purling clockwise, and then knitting through the back loop to untwist those stitches. And it has FIXED my purl tension! The left side of my flat stockinette no longer gains a giant, sad loop! (Hell, I think that selvedge might even be neater than the right side now.) And I still don't necessarily like knitting ribbing, or how it looks vs. other, funkier options. But a quick test of normal vs. combination ribs side-by-side? Hot damn, that combo rib looks GOOD.

...Now, to get back to seeing if I can wrangle those picots to do what I want, without resorting to smaller needles...

[tricktrashing]

That one color wheel meme that's been going around twitter was really fun, and i wanted to do it with my characters

I tried to focus more on my ORIGINAL characters,not fan characters, but since i lacked red girls, i had to include my Super Animal Royale girl Cherry to fit a spot with Potyra… there are a few didnt fit so well but be nice to me okay,.,.

[signedaiko]

begging- BEGGING PLEASSEE!!

for a Bumblee Bee x Decepticon reader who’s short like him but more timid than their comrades. Like they mess up on missions, but they can be snappy too and fast like Bumblebee! I imagine him chasing them in a fun cat and mouse and accidentally takes it like a fun game. all scaring the heck out of them as he catches up with a smile. He would start crushing on them and just says things like it’s a fun idea “you should totally switch sides! Join us!” And the reader is all bewildered but wary.

Bumblebee [Animated]

In which the small bot finds a con just about his size that he wants to spend more time with.

Reader is: Gender Neutral | Cybertronian | Decepticon. Romantic.

Bee has a fair few con encounters now that he is fighting for Earth

Usually they were against the likes of Blitzwing, Lugnut, and the odd Starscream

But you were new; you were something that paled in size but made up for in interest

You were mostly known for your ability to distract; that's right, the cons used you as a lure on purpose

You were small, nimble, decently fast, and as Random had once told you;

"You have the face of an Autobot!"

Autobots thought you were an easy target, easy to manipulate, perhaps less smart

But you were dedicated to the cause, and while you hated being bait and preferred your spot on intelligence collection, you were happy to do whatever Megatron wished of you

Usually, it was fine

But recently, the yellow one had gotten too close, and he was only getting better at catching up to you

Telling the cons you were scared was out of the question, but it was seriously concerning how obsessive it had become

Every time you made yourself visible to the Bots, he was racing towards you with a smile and a hand extended, like he expected you to reach out and accept him just like that

More recently, you were worried he'd actually catch you

Racing down a frozen-over river as thick snow slowly fell from the sky, leafless trees whizzing past your vision as your peds left compacted snow marks behind you

He had special wheels made for snow, but you didn't, and he was fast behind you, yelling some more of his pleas

"Aren't you tired of running? I just wanna talk!"

He sounded so young, certainly near your age, someone you could get along with had it not been for the war

But what if it was only a trick? What if he only played this game for his own amusement?

You'd long since called Blitzwing to help get you, since you couldn't fly, and he was on his way, but visibility was low with all the snow, fog, and your distant location

You had to keep running, but Bee was only a few meters behind by now; you could hear the snow crunching beneath his tires

"C'mon! Join the bots! We can race like this more often on real roads!"

He offered again, but you refused

"You make it sound easy; how about you just join the cons?"

You were just as snappy, though

Just as he got on your heels and transformed, digits inches away from grabbing your arm, you jumped up and grabbed onto the wing of the purple and tan jet that swooped down, dragged away from his reach in seconds

He stopped in his tracks and groaned, but his smile never left

"Next time, then!"

Authors Note - This prompt is so cute!!! It honestly reminds me of a Blitzwing fic I read by @vhaos-chaotic-writing that was him being yandere and kinda doing the same!

[moonstruckme]

hello mae! all your spooky drabbles have been amazing, you’re so talented! i was wondering if i can request a poly!marauders spooky drabble where they have a horror/slasher marathon and both reader and sirius are being insufferable trying to predict who’s the killer and remus is just being the voice of reason to all their theories and james just enabling them, asking them questions and its all fluffy?? thank you! hope you’re having a great spooky season 🎃🫶

Thank you lovely!!

cw: suggestive content

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 821 words

“It’s that actress,” Sirius muses, voice softened the way it always gets when you play with his hair. “What’s her name?” 

“That one?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Mia Goth.” 

Sirius adjusts his head on your chest. “Right, her. She never really plays the innocent, does she?” 

“Mm, you don’t think they’re trying to trick us?” 

A door opens down the hall, and you jump a little. Sirius chuckles, giving you a squeeze where his arms are wound underneath your jumper. “Chicken.” 

James waltzes into the living room looking properly rumpled. He’d dragged Remus away as soon as your workerbee boyfriend had gotten home, sequestering him in your bedroom. 

“Our entertainment wasn’t good enough for you?” Sirius asks as he sits down. 

James lifts Sirius’ legs, shuffling underneath so he’s closer to both of you. “Remus was gone all day,” he says simply. “I missed him.” 

“I can see that,” you laugh, poking at a red mark on his neck. “Jamie, what happened here?”

“Shh.” James nestles in close to kiss the skin by your ear. “You should see the other guy.”

Remus walks in, nimble fingers buttoning his shirt, but not before you spot the half dozen hickeys scattered about his chest.

“You deviants,” Sirius gripes. You suspect he’s a tiny bit wounded at being left out of the lovefest. “Movie night is supposed to be for all of us, and now you’ve missed half the middle.” 

“The middle’s always the most predictable part anyway,” says Remus, sitting down and putting his feet on the coffee table. 

Sirius kicks at him vengefully. Remus catches his foot, casting him an unimpressed look while he presses his thumb into the ticklish spot in Sirius’ arch. Your boyfriend yelps and yanks his foot back. His fingers tighten around your middle. 

“Who are we thinking the killer is?” James picks up the bowl of kettle corn he’d abandoned on the coffee table earlier, scooping up a handful. Remus silently collects the pieces that fall onto the couch. 

One of Sirius’ hands comes out of your sweatshirt to take a piece. “Maybe Mia Goth.” 

“Ahh, I see. Who’s that?” 

“The blonde one there,” you say. 

“Oh, her.” James murmurs to Remus, “Have we seen her before?”

“Yeah, Jamie.” 

“I don’t know, I kind of wonder if it could be the mom,” you say. “You don’t usually see any real adults in these. It seems like the setup for something.” 

Remus hums. “Have any of her kids been killed?” 

You frown. “Well, yeah.” 

“I wouldn’t put my money on her, then.” 

You and Sirius exchange a look. Remus has a pretty stellar track record when it comes to guessing the killer in these films. You both want him to be wrong, but he’s likely right. 

“You never know,” says Sirius. He’s begun tracing patterns into your skin with his fingertips, phantom tattoos over your ribs. “They always have a partner in these things. Her partner could have betrayed her by killing one of the kids. Or she could be a psychopath that wants to escape the constraints of her domestic life, and this whole thing is just a way to kill off her kids without anybody suspecting her.” 

“Diabolical,” James mutters, shoving more kettle corn in his mouth. Three pieces tumble to the couch, which Remus picks up. 

“You guys always get caught up in the tropes,” Remus says. “It keeps you from seeing the logical choice.” 

Sirius frowns up at you. You pet his head. “You’re no fun,” he says to Remus.

“Oi,” Remus laughs, “I’m only trying to help you.” 

“They don’t want to know who the killer is, love,” says James, leaning his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder consolingly. “They want to shoot off theories and then be surprised by the end.” 

You and Sirius gawp. “That’s not true!” you say. 

James looks genuinely confused. “It’s not?” 

“No! Obviously we want to know who it is.” 

“That’s it.” Sirius waves them away with a sweep of his hand. “Go back to your debauchery, leave us to enjoy our film.” He snuggles close to you, leaning up to kiss the underside of your jaw. “We won’t let them spoil it for us, sweetness.” 

“Wait, no,” James laughs. “We’re sorry.”

“We won’t spoil anything,” Remus vows. He leans around James to give you a soft look, and you feel your lips tilt up unwillingly. 

Sirius regards them both coolly. “You’ll be good for the rest of the film?” 

Remus’ eyes flash with amusement, and he grabs Sirius’ foot again, the threat potent. 

“We’ll be good,” James agrees. 

You and Sirius look at each other, both pretending to deliberate whilst suppressing your grins. He’s much better at it than you are.

“All right,” he says magnanimously. “You can stay.” 

“Good. It is our flat, too, you know.” James grabs a heaping fistful of kettle corn, bringing it to his mouth. 

Several pieces overflow, falling to the couch. Remus sighs. “Honestly, James.” 

[grenadehearts]

boyfriend!suguru who takes your hair care very seriously, shampooing it in the steaming hot shower as his long, soft fingers knead into your scalp, lathering the rose shampoo with warm, aphrodisiac notes of tonka that left him kneeling at your feet ever since he inhaled that intoxicating scent, determined to chase you down, demanding what shampoo you used, but so shocked to meet  a beautifully cruel face, framed by dark tendrils, that smelt like secrets he should never know.

boyfriend!suguru who holds you steady with his large hand, wrapping you in a towel and rubbing an Oribe hair mask into your long locks. He knows every hair care tip and trick in the book due to his long, cascading, straight locks that flow down his muscular-toned back, that you can never help pulling and fisting when he's buried deep inside your sopping cunt, and don't even get me started when he's lapping up your spoils like a man starved, face suffocated by your thighs, only tasting your sweet nectar, as you fist and dig at his scalp, only egging him on, the scent of roses  now mingling with the musky tang of sex. (as soon as he met you he ran out to buy the exact shampoo you used, although he thinks it smells best on you..)

boyfriend!suguru who rinses and dries your hair so delicately, his often cruel hands so gentle when it reaches your scalp, he's always idling, playing with a strand of your hair, twisting and curling the lengths between his long fingers, his face often buried into your silky hair, inhaling that damned scent, that sent him straight to the altar. 

boyfriend!suguru who drains his bank account for an assortment of the most expensive hair care products, ranging from exotic shampoos, masks, and oils, special bamboo brushes—you name it, he has it, displayed like precious family jewels.

boyfriend!suguru who every night without fail, no matter how tired he is, his eyelids drooping, threatening to close, will always have you sit in front of him as he delicately brushes your hair a couple of times for good luck (he's a bit superstitious) and then with nimble fingers and a fervent touch will braid your strands, before oiling the ends. As he lays his weary head in the crook of your neck, your hair soft and warm against his face, like a warm blanket enveloping him in your sweet heat, as he tiredly leaves tiny yet sloppy kisses onto your neck and lower earlobe, the lingering shampoo fragrance hanging in the air.

authors note: masterlist here .. p.s did u guys get the vision bf geto who loves hair care and his way of showing love being that like omg??/

[a2remedy]

Ride or Die and Beyond

Jason Todd, at 15, panicked and tired, didn't know what to make of the situation he was in.

Jason Todd, at 13, was oblivious to his best friend, who was, by all means, just as much of a medical professional as Leslie. That totally wasn't concerning.

Oblivious to how he'd always have a copy of Pride and Prejudice on hand whenever Jason was feeling stressed. Oblivious to dancing shadows and tricks of the light that lead him to hidden clues at crime scenes. But he was aware of the promise to be each other's ride or die when they had to beat up older Gotham Academy students that tried bashing them for not being from rich families.

Jason Todd, at 15, was aware that changed when it was his turn to tend to his friend who got a high fever. He had Alfred rush them to Leslie's and stuck by his side because he knew his friend was afraid of hospitals and needles. He held his friend's hand tight and squeezed to remind him that he was there.

They made jokes about how they couldn't avoid each other even in death. That's when it becomes Ride or Die and Beyond. Then he died. Screaming for his friend and for his dad. Jason Todd, at 15, has never failed to grasp that he couldn't get rid of his friend even if he wanted to. It was fucking annoying... and endearing.

----

Danny Fen Nightingale, at 15, never thought he'd be fighting back an assassin lady with a shovel in front of his best friend's grave. He's been feeling off for months. His grief over his friend felt... wrong? Something was happening. No, something was bound to happen. He couldn't explain it until a green sticky note told him to take a little walk down memory lane within Gotham. He dug up some flowers he was growing and stopped by a tool shop to get a bigger shovel to get the flowers closer to his best friend. As close as they could. But someone beat him there. Someone new? No, he knew this feeling. The unknown, the feeling that someone was watching whenever he visited. He failed to crack her upside the head for attending without flowers. But he felt the shift, somethi- time, time decided to set things right. ---- Talia was caught between a sense of shock and pride that the friend of her beloved's ward nearly got the jump on her. She wouldn't deny that it was within her expectation, though. The boy's steps were so light, she would've been hit if he wielded with less drag, something lighter. With the way the boy dodged and weave from her blows, she was ecstatic to see a dagger in his hands. Is this how the boy felt when he slipped out of here mentioning a 2 for one deal? It was only after her beloved's ward crawled out of his grave that the boy let his guard down so slightly while blocking her off from him. The boy lasted without her training. She was sure he had training of some kind, and yet his form was lax. So nimble, so adaptable.

Of course, she made quick work of the two and covered their tracks before making her escape.

Were her maternal instincts activating again? ----

She wasn't sure how to define her relationship with Danyal. The boy has finally seen the effort to correct her and Damien as pointless after months of being here. Yet, he's displayed a strength she hasn't seen in knocking down her father and dragging him through a brighter glowing Lazarus pit for "paperwork". She may not be sure of what or where her father was, but Danyal has ensured his good health with a devilish grin and that he never laid another hand on him. She was positive he was being tortured in a way the soft-hearted boy deemed fitting. But was he another son? He didn't seem opposed to the idea after her insistence to be trained and grimaced at being in a room with them for too long as he said they stink. He visits 3-4 times a week to ensure her beloved's war- Jason was good in his recovery.

She found herself agreeing with Jason less and less as the boy began turning red after they shared the night he was first back in his right mind crying and holding the other close. But Jason assures her that he's just his best friend... Maybe Danyal couldn't be her son. But he could be her son-in-law.

She wasn't against that.

She also wasn't against the glances she shared more often with Damien as two interacted. They grew closer in discussion of how Danyal fell first, but Jason was falling harder. Then there was this Roy character she's been hearing about more. She couldn't wait to take pleasure in Jason's reaction of his love interests assassinating the so-called Prince of Crime. It warmed her heart that they involved her in strategizing and cleaning up. They also seemed to be reaching a similar affection.

Now she and Damien just need to get Jason to realize he has two boyfriends. Oh, the struggle of motherhood.

[hazbinhotei]

coming home to you.

warnings: none besides tooth-rotting fluff

word count: 804

summary: After a long, exhausting day of overlord duties, Alastor finds solace in the one place he truly feels at ease—home, in your arms.

alastor x gn!reader. just a short little scenario to help me bust out my very old, very outdated fic writing skills. lord has it been a while. enjoy!

You hum to yourself as you rinse off your plate, watching the last remnants of your dinner swirl down the sink. Your shared hotel suite with Alastor was silent, save for the pocket dimension of his hometown bayou leaking the sound of frogs croaking and crickets chirping into the room. It was a particularly peaceful night—as peaceful as it could be in Hell—and you relish the slowness of it all.

Normally, you would have waited for Alastor to return home from work before eating, but tonight was one of his late ones. Instead of his usual duties working around the hotel, Carmilla had rung up all the Overlords, calling an emergency meeting at her building to discuss the ‘future state of the Pride Ring.’ Whatever that meant.

His words echoed in your mind, spoken with that ever-charming lilt: "Don't wait for me to eat, cher." So, you had taken his advice, eating alone at the small table in your shared suite. It wasn’t the same without him, but you knew he’d appreciate coming home to a warm, welcoming space.

Just as you finish drying the last of your cutlery, the door to the hotel room creaks open, a sound normally followed by a charming comment or dramatic tease from its owner. But tonight, it drags like a body across the floor, heavy and slow. Alastor steps inside, his usual unshakable grin barely holding its form, his shoulders drawn with an unfamiliar weight. The Radio Demon, the grinning nightmare of the Pride Ring, looks… exhausted.

You’re at his side before he can blink, reaching for his striped red coat with practiced ease.

“Welcome home, darling.” Your voice is soft, soothing, the very opposite of the blaring white noise that so often accompanies him. You peel the crimson fabric from his sharp shoulders, the weight of it far heavier than it should be, steeped in the burdens of whatever dealings he’s handled today. He lets you, uncharacteristically still as you hang it up, your fingers brushing over the lapels just a moment longer.

“You know,” he drawls, his voice carrying that ever-present hum, though softer now, sleepier. “I do believe I’ve found my favorite part of the day.”

You hum in acknowledgement, trying to fight off the blush creeping up your neck at his affectionate words as you lead him to the couch with a gentle tug on his hand. He follows, pliant, sinking into the plush cushions with an exhale that nearly sounds human. Nearly.

Before he can so much as adjust his bowtie, you’re already working on it, nimble fingers loosening the fabric with a tenderness most would never dare to offer him. His eyes, normally glinting with endless mischief, watch you with something quieter, something raw.

“How bad was it?” you ask, brushing his hair back, reveling in the way he leans ever so slightly into your touch.

His chuckle is breathy, almost disbelieving. “Dreadful,” he admits, closing his eyes as your fingers trail down to massage the tense muscles at the base of his neck. “A bore, really. Politics, power plays—the same old predictable tricks.”

He sighs as you press a firm kiss to his temple. “The only true entertainment,” he continues, his voice tapering into something softer, “is right here.”

Your chest tightens at that, warmth spreading through you like honey in tea. You shift, guiding him down until his head is resting in your lap. He doesn’t resist, doesn’t quip or tease. He simply lets himself be held. “You’re such a terrible liar,” you muse, twirling a red face-framing lock of hair between your fingers. “You would go mad if you couldn’t wreak havoc on the citizens of Hell.”

He only hums in response, the sound deep from his chest as he gazes up at you with half-lidded eyes. For a while, there’s only silence. The gentle hum of the hotel, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, the slow, steady glide of your fingers through his hair.

Then, in a voice so uncharacteristically quiet, he murmurs, “I do hope you know how much I appreciate you.”

You pause, fingers stilling for just a second before continuing, even gentler than before. Your smile is small but genuine as you lean down, pressing your forehead against his.

“I know,” you whisper. “But it’s nice to hear.”

Alastor chuckles, the sound warm and genuine, before pulling you down into his arms. You yelp as he shifts, dragging you onto the couch with him until you’re properly tangled together. His grin, tired as it may be, finds its strength again as he nuzzles into you, his arms looping around your waist with an ease that speaks of years spent loving you.

And for once, the ever-boisterous, ever-smiling, ever-exhausting Radio Demon allows himself the simple comfort of just being.

With you.

[bamfkeeper]

Cooking with Kurt.

RQ: 'So, I’ve been thinking lately about cute ideas, and one of them is about cooking. Could you write a head-cannons (or a fic if you like the idea and want to be more in-depth) of Kurt and the Reader cooking? Kurt teaches the reader how to make certain German foods, and the Reader teaches Kurt some tricks too. Just the two bonding over cooking and praising and complimenting each other for their good jobs. I just find this to be adorable since cooking is a great way to share cultures and bond 🥧😋.' - @hulkingharbor

pairing: Kurt Wagner x GN!reader | warnings: None

a/n: Stuck with headcannons because those are easy for me to write up. I have been neglecting this blog a bit I'm so sorry. I wanted to get some stuff out before I left for my trip. Unedited.

Kurt was over the moon when you expressed interest in his German heritage. Your curiosity about his roots had always been genuine, but when the topic turned to cuisine, his excitement reached new heights. The prospect of sharing his culinary traditions with you filled him with joy.

He saw cooking and baking together as a meaningful way to connect and create lasting memories, it was one of his love languages for sure.

The kitchen became a space where cultural exchange and personal bonding intertwined. Kurt's eyes would light up as he described the myriad of German dishes he was eager to introduce you to, each recipe carrying a story or a cherished memory from his past.

From hearty sauerbraten to delicate apfelstrudel, he had an extensive repertoire of flavors he couldn't wait to explore with you.

Kurt stood beside you, his lean body adorned with a whimsical apron that seemed almost comically out of place on his athletic frame.

His nimble fingers worked the dough with practiced ease, kneading it into submission. "I am beyond thrilled to be baking with you, liebe," he exclaimed, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. "This is something I've been longing to do for quite some time now."

His golden eyes sparkled with joy as he spoke, his hands never ceasing their rhythmic motion on the precious dough. Meanwhile, you busied yourself with the task of slicing apples, the crisp sound of the knife against the cutting board.

"You look absolutely ridiculous," you chuckled affectionately, your eyes crinkling with mirth as you took in the sight of him in his frilly apron. The appearance of his muscular form and the dainty kitchen wear was too amusing to ignore.

Kurt was never one to back down from playful banter, he responded by sticking out his tongue at you in a childish gesture. His graceful tail swished mischievously behind him. You noticed that the tip of his tail had somehow managed to acquire a light dusting of flour.

Before you could react, his tail flicked swiftly in your direction, sending a small cloud of white powder flying towards you. It landed on your nose, a tiny puff of it exhaling as you snorted.

Kurt's laughter filled your ears, and you picked up some flour to combat him, his hands went up as he playfully begged you not to. "Nein! Nein, liebe! Flour and my fur do not mix!"

His pleading didn't deter you.

Flour collided with him and you both began a play fight of tossing the white ingredient at each other until you were covered in it.

Besides your little food fight, you both learned how to cook each others favorite meals. Kurt gladly taught you special recipes, and you baked delicious cookies and made warm meals to eat together.

You were surprised at how hearty his meals were, despite him being fairly lean. He blamed it on his metabolism.

Kurt loves to cook you food. Whenever you request a dish, he gets right on it and is so proud of the outcome. He always does his best and is very specific about the ingredients he uses. It has to be fresh and perfect for you.

Cooking and baking together became a cherished ritual, a delightful exploration of flavors and cultures. You take turns introducing each other to your respective backgrounds, eagerly sharing family recipes and cooking techniques passed down through generations.

The kitchen becomes a messy playground of creativity as you collaborate on fusion dishes, blending elements from both your culinary heritage.

Kurt's enthusiasm for cultural exchange is endearing, his natural curiosity and open-mindedness make him an eager student of diverse traditions and customs. He approaches each new experience with childlike wonder, whether it's trying an exotic spice or learning a traditional method of cooking. He's always ready to sample new dishes, no matter how unfamiliar.

Kurt's eyes always light up as he tastes your food. "Mein Gott, liebling! This food is absolutely wunderbar!" he exclaims, his voice filled with genuine awe. He affectionately nuzzles his head against yours, his tail instinctively curling around your waist to draw you closer.

The gesture of his tail is protective and intimate, a habit he formed long ago and you never broke it from him. "You must write down this recipe for me. I'd love to surprise you with it someday when you least expect it."

You can't help but smile at his enthusiasm, your heart warming at his sincere appreciation. "Of course, I'll write it down for you," you assure him, your voice soft with affection. "But I expect detailed instructions for all your culinary masterpieces too."

Turning in his embrace, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, your fingers tracing the unique patterns of his skin. "After all, I need something to tide me over when you're away on missions. Can't have me pining away with an empty stomach, can we?"

A mischievous grin spreads across Kurt's face, his golden eyes twinkling with a mixture of humor and desire. He leans in close, his lips barely brushing against yours as he speaks. The feather-light touch sends a shiver down your spine, igniting a familiar warmth in your core.

"Oh, liebling," he purrs, his accented voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "When have I ever left you wanting for anything? I always make sure you're well-satisfied in every possible way~"

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight | Images found on Pinterest, I did not look for the specific comic Kurt's pic is from.

[vasel1ne]

for i cannot forgo your warmth (i will miss it dearly)

✩࿐ summary - physical possessions (both borrowed and gifted) that remind them of your warmth

✩࿐ warnings - mentions of blood, smoking and weapons

✩࿐ pairings - aglaea, fugue, gallagher, boothill, serval x gn!reader

aglaea keeps your golden pocket knife on the strap of her outer left thigh. the handle is a coarse, brown leather but the silver-gold metal of the actual blade shines with a gleam that has not met the squalor taste of blood. she wishes it won’t at all, but she knows it eventually will with her reputation as the “heartless” chrysos heir – although only for her own protection of course, she would not dare damage her dearests’ possessions. aglaea flicks her memories to the countless times she has seen you balance the blade between your nimble, agile fingers, demonstrating a plethora of tricks with the weapon as if it were an extension of your own body – from simply spinning the dagger between your fingers to twirling the sharpened side with your bare hands, she has seen it all.

she remembers the way you placed the blade in the expanse of her palm the night of your departure, the auburn tint of leather a stark contrast to the paleness of her skin. her breath always hitches when she remembers how you made her vow to you that she would protect herself, that she would “be selfish for once” – you held the hand that held your precious dagger as she made such promises to you, further dampening your departure by pressing a kiss to the side of her head. so now, aglaea keeps the blade tucked under carefully crafted robes of silk – just under the leather strap that wraps around her upper thigh.

gifted to her by you, fugue keeps ornamental hair pins in her possession at all times. as much as she may adore her long brunette locks she can admit that – more often than not – it shields her face when she is trying to eat miscellaneous snacks she buys from street vendors. finding this small peeve to dullen her experiences of strolling through the luofu’s streets, she vents her frustrations to you. naturally, a few days later she bids you farewell on your travels and thinks nothing more of her previous vexation. when you return and present her a wrapped crimson cloth, she is convinced that you’ve simply bought her a few more foreign crystals – it's not a bad thing when you do though, in fact she does quite like them, placing them in a straw-woven basket in her room. but this time, she unravels the cloth to reveal a few hairpins, a rich gold tone with intricate weaving of quartz and crimson red detailing – it seems to fit her daily attire almost perfectly.

fugue is initially confused, her head tilting to the side slightly but a small appreciative smile nevertheless. she starts to understand the incentive behind the gift when you recall her previous vexations about her hair getting in the way while she eats, and she claps her hands with glee and slight surprise and adoration that you would remember such a thing, wrapping her arms around you and placing kiss to your cheek. now whenever fugue goes out to stroll the streets of the luofu, she makes sure that she has her hair pins somewhere in her purse.

gallagher is a seemingly put-together man, however in actuality resembles the memory of a goldfish when he forgets yet again to bring a lighter to your smoke break. you’re both sitting in a secluded corner of golden hour, hidden away from his underlings when you reluctantly let him use the flame of your beloved lighter. simple is the last thing to describe the small thing, its iron casing with labyrinthine patterns and silver-gold borders makes it way above both of your guys’ pay grade. the little cherry on top is the rose flower illustrated onto the iron casing, it too also having a silver-gold border. a smirk reaches his face when you toss the lighter to him, “nice lighter you got here,” he whistles, before lighting his cigarette and tossing it over back to you.

it was foolish of you to think that your partner would have the capacity to remember his own lighter the next time you decide to take a smoke break, but alas you find yourselves in the same predicament as last time. you give a pointed glare and a roll of your eyes, handing it over to him as you lean against his side. subtly watching him from the corner of your eyes, you watch the way his calloused fingertips run over the grooved indents and patterns of the iron casing, the smile that graces his broad features when he admires the rose on the front.

the next time you’re both supposed to take your smoke break together, gallagher receives a text message from you that reads, “busy :( sorry dear can’t come” which in response he sends a quick thumbs up emoji. taking a cigarette out of a packet he realizes that he’s forgotten his lighter. again. then he receives another text message, “check your pockets ;)” sliding his hand down his right back pocket, he feels a small hard object. pulling it out to inspect it, a rose-engraved iron cased lighter sits in the palm of his hand and gallagher can’t help but bark a laugh.

boothill gets into scraps, more than often than you’d like, and much to your dismay he doesn’t intend on stopping. nevertheless, you’re always by his side after these little fights, washcloth in hand. at first, he sent you a confused look, eyebrows raised as the cloth wiped the blood off his metal chest. “why clean there – no point when it’s metal,’ he said offhandedly, leaning back with his arms supporting him. you had sighed as you wrung the washcloth in the soapy bucket, the water already turning a translucent pink. “why do we brush our teeth every night? go to bed?” you had asked him, turning your attention to his scratched and bloodied abdomen, “it’s because taking care of our body gives us the opportunity to take care of other things too,” you smiled when the inky colour of his eyes met your own, “and i think that that is one of the best things in the universe,” you said as you wiped the remaining crimson off his stomach, sealing your words with a kiss. 

without you by his side, he launches himself into the battlefield – his fearlessness and relentless nature on the field apparent in the way blood stains the reflective silver of his upper body. but now this time, boothill has a washcloth – tucked away in the pockets of his pants. you’re not there with him, to drag the cloth over his bare chest with a gentility he had never experienced until he had met you, but he can feel those moments when his fingertips graze the fibers of the cloth. so, when he gets into a scrap at golden hour, he finds himself huffing and puffing his way to the rinky-dink bar bathroom, where he braces himself against the sink. taking out the washcloth, he runs it under the tap and starts to dap away at the dirtied spots of his chest, abdomen and arms. all so maybe one day, he could do this for you.

being serval’s partner automatically makes you her involuntary lab assistant. she doesn’t ask you to do anything too hard of course, merely measuring out a few chemicals, finding bits and pieces in her workshop or just standing by her side as she tinkers with a possibly explosive invention. she also doesn’t force you to do anything if she sees you are too tired or stressed, which happens one night after a particularly arduous expedition with the silvermane guards. you’re lounging in serval’s workshop, waiting for her to finish up and your eyes cannot help but stare at your girlfriend as she weaves through her space, fetching various measurement cups and chemicals from her shelves. you watch as she very, very slowly pours in the liquid into one of the cups, eyeing it with such intensity that you worry the glass might shatter from the weight of her gaze. her electrified blue eyes are barely visible now, squinting so hard that you also fear that serval may squint her way into a migraine. 

sighing to yourself, you walk upstairs to retrieve a pair of reading glasses on your bedside table, and unsurprisingly, serval is still pouring the liquid into the beaker. sliding your hands along her shoulders to get her attention, she sets the bottle down on the counter and chirps a “hm?” when she turns to face you. plopping your reading glasses on her face, the glasses actually fit perfectly on her, the simple black rectangular frame reminds you of something akin to the old man at belebog’s museum and you giggle. serval doesn’t think much of it at the time, giving you a peck on the lips and a small “thanks” before continuing her work. you note that this time, she has her eyes open normally, having no problem with pouring the liquid into the beaker.

you also notice that serval asks you less and less to help her out in her workshop, but instead finding your reading glasses more on her face than your bedside table. of course you don’t mind, in fact, you think she looks ten times more dashing and charming with them on, biting the corner of your lip to stop yourself from smiling whenever she has them on. she even sometimes has them perching right above her forrid when talking to her actual assistant molly, and you have to restrain yourself from planting a big fat kiss on her cheek. though, it eventually makes you wonder that all those times when you were her involuntary assistant, you were more her pair of eyes then anything else.

✩࿐ a/n - after intensely staring at character designs for the past few hours i have brought you this! honkai star rail's prettiest right here

thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed !

[kth1fics]

Twisted Fate (M) | MYG

Twisted Fate

⟶ Pairing: Min Yoongi x Female Reader (Y/N) ⟶ Genre: Oneshot, Smut, Rated R | 18+ ⟶ Tropes: Vampire!Yoongi, Strangers to Lovers, Royalty AU, Supernatural AU, Fantasy AU ⟶ WC: 4.7k+ ⟶ Warnings: blood (obviously), some degrading, biting / blood drinking, breast play, choking, sparkling jealousy, unprotected sex, there’s a third party at play, some bondage, fingering, oral (f), threats, reader has a nickname. ⟶ Beta: n/a (no beta just complete yolo - if it doesn't make sense don't worry about it) ⟶ Summary: A slice of vampiric lifestyle here inside the Briarwood Manor walls after you ultimately picked the Lord you wish to serve. ⟶ Author’s Note: I actually feel very bad that most of all my hosted collaborations are incomplete. It happens though, ya know? This Yoongi is a part of the Briarwood Manor Collab, hosted by myself! I never expected to be writing this fic, honestly. But I hope it does well and is good enough! Please leave any feedback or comments on a reblog, post, or even my ask box! ⟶ Song Recommendation: Sweet Sacrifice by Evanescence

Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ AO3 ◈ Ko-Fi

“Hello, puppet, did you miss me?”

The low mischievous voice whispers a chill in your ear. His cold hand comes to rest on your bare shoulder, stroking your soft skin. If anyone were to see they’d think his touch is sincere and tender, a loving gesture to greet his lover, but they’d be so very wrong. 

A puppet is what you are to him, nothing more. To serve however he sees fit. The nickname is quick out of his mouth the moment you pick him under the shine of a blood moon. You aren’t so sure what drew you to him in the first place. Maybe his aura played a trick on you, taunted you with his beauty and looks. An elegant and stoic composure mixed in one. The most unresponsive to the personal sacrifice (you) during the ritual.

You still remember the lifeless blink of his eyes when he first looked at you. From there you should have known he didn’t see the life inside of you. The vampire whose fangs ghost over your neck and haunt your nights is far from a lover. He’s an obligation. A duty. The choice you were forced to make among the six other princes.

Some nights you question what would have been if you picked someone different. How would the others treat their Church’s generous gift? Would you be more than a puppet?

His hand sends a visible chill through you. The sickly sweet voice of Lord Yoongi that you dread has returned after weeks away. There’s no doubt in your mind that there’s a toothy-grin widening on his face when he inhales your scent. You were just starting to enjoy that temporary freedom from his demanding fangs. Oh, how you wish he was gone just a while longer.

Yoongi had been away visiting a nearby kingdom to the West for business. Both Lord Namjoon and Lord Hoseok accompanied him. You know very little of their endeavors. Council work if anything. Matters that a blood-bag, such as yourself, has no business knowing. You are thankful for the pleasant peace of the manor while you had it.

You remain quiet, but your heart pounds in your chest. Anyone in an earshot can probably hear it pumping through your veins. Yoongi sends a full attack to your nervous system and he hardly touches you.

“Let’s pretend that’s excitement,” he comments as a nimble finger runs along your neck.

“H-How was the trip?” You ignore his first question completely. Faking a soft smile to please him.

“Nonsense,” he mutters as his mouth hovers the crook of your next. Your body already expects the snag of his teeth any second now. “Take off that pathetic excuse of a dress the servants dressed you in. I want you in my quarters. Now,” Yoongi whispers with demand.

You feel that there’s no room for objections, you’ve learned the hard way once or twice before. Disobeying Yoongi only makes things harder for you.

The first step you take halts as you feel his hand tug at the lace to your bodice. It snaps easily, loosening the material for an easier escape. Yoongi trails you, watches you with a burning hunger, as one by one you shed your clothes on your way to his room. 

There’s no shame walking down the corridors of the manor, you’ve gotten used to these trips. Seen many others in the same position. It’s the way of life here.

Yoongi’s room is one of the furthest from the grand room. It requires walking the stairs and passing several other spaces before reaching the crystal knob of his door. On occasion, his impatience forces you into the music room where he lays you on the piano lid and does exactly what one can imagine. 

Although, tonight doesn’t feel like one of those nights.

“You haven’t answered me yet,” his voice hums, “did you miss me?”

You don’t loath the man, but you know what he does to you. How you are easily frail compared to him and fear slipping up. The sharpness in his fangs and in his words and the strength in his grip and demeanor. You do not miss his beastly moods when he sucks your blood savagely and brings you to the brink of tears. To where you fall far too weak to put up a fight.

There are no soft sides to Yoongi, not from what you’ve witnessed anyway. When he’s finished with you, you’re sure he’ll do it with no remorse.

You want to answer truthfully. Saying ‘no’ is on the very tip of your tongue. Maybe his absence did make you feel useless in a way. But you also felt relief by being away from the ruthless need of your body. And for that, you feel a tang of guilt. Making you question how you actually feel.

“Yes, my Lord,” you speak sweet yet flat. “Your presence was greatly missed.”

Finally, you’re met in the center of his room. The still cool air swallows you as you stand there awaiting his next command. The click to the door shutting behind you resounds out loud. It leaves you trapped inside the vampire’s chamber.

“Of course you did,” he smirks to himself as he slowly undos his cufflinks. His eyes continue to scan you, admiring the shape of your body and nudity. “Go on. Sit.”

You see the nod of his head from your peripheral as you stare blankly at the dark silk comforter. A canopy hangs from the ceiling above, draping thick charcoal black curtains. There’s a litter of candles scattered throughout, none of which are lit. You’re granted very little light from the cascading moon from outside the tall paneled windows. It’s darker than usual due to the storm clouds. 

Everyday his chamber is cleaned and dusted even when left unoccupied. Yoongi likes his stuff maintained, presetine if he could. If one thing is out of alignment he will notice it. They have workers for several reasons, many for pure enjoyment and food.

As you take a seat on the side of the bed, Yoongi hovers. He stands close, taking your chin in his hand and tilting your head up to look at him. His grip is menacing, you’re aware of how easily a man with his strength can break your bones.

“Whore,” he comments as he looks down on you.

His voice cuts through you like a knife. Clear and loud. He watches the way your eyes flicker in shock and widen. Heat plasters to your face as his grip tightens.

“Do you think I don’t know?” He huffed a laugh. “Why don’t you tell me what I'm speaking about?”

“Y-Yoongi I –”

He slips a finger into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue to prevent you from forming any more words.

“Take my name out of your dirty mouth or I'll do it for you,” he threatens.

“I’m sorry!,” you attempt to say out of pure reaction. 

Yoongi leans in flashing you a smile, revealing his sharpened canines. His eyes turn a blazing ruby red, popping out of his stark black hair.

��I’ll release your tongue and when the second I do, I expect you to tell me.”

He waits for your acknowledgement before his fingers find their way back to cradling your chin.

“Lord Jimin,” the name falls out of your mouth just as your eyes fall to the ground. “I didn’t know what I was supposed to do,” you fester up.

How could you? With no guidance from the Lord you picked. He left you at the manor with very little discussion. There’s unspoken rules you’re still learning to this day. How are you supposed to know what Lord Yoongi wants when he doesn’t speak the words into existence?

“You’re not his,” Yoongi states. He rests one knee on the edge of the bed beside you. His other hand traces up your arm lightly all the way to the back of your neck. With his position, he brings your head back up to look at him. “I don’t care what he says. You picked me.”

“He would have killed me if I denied his advances,” you mention. Confusion and panic swells deeply in your eyes. “He only just –”

Yoongi snorts, displeased beyond belief. “He wouldn’t unless he wanted a war. He knows you belong to me and took the opportunity to take you when I was gone.”

“–Just bit me!,” you managed to get out.

“Hm?” Yoongi’s eyebrow quirks.

“He only just bit me. I swear there is nothing more!”

You plead with your eyes. You’ve never wanted to upset him in any way. The role you play is one you take seriously. If you were murdered by a fellow ally of your Lord, that would have madden him further, no?

Yoongi’s touch turns featherlight, nothing compared to how he touches you when he lays with you. Rough and demanding. Guiding you exactly how and when he wants it. It’s what you’re expecting from him.

He leans down close, slotting his head next to your neck as he breathes in your scent. “I’ll keep you locked up in my room.” Yoongi’s lips touch against your skin, you can’t help but shiver. “Spread your legs.”

Yoongi’s cool fingers ghost your core, leaving traces as they pass each inch. You feel the threat of his fangs against you, making your body heat up quickly. It is safe to say that you do miss the way he touches you. Feeling his grip all over your body, it brings you to places you’ve never – and will never – admit.

“But I'll have no property of mine” – he continues with his earlier words – “be shared like a whore on the street.”

You politely move your head to the side with his hand as direction, bracing for the impact of his teeth. They lightly drag along your jugular until he finds his desired spot before sinking them into your skin.

The feeling hurts like a razor sharp sting as you release a groan. Yoongi’s hand secures you in place as the other presses against your heated core. His fingers slip between your folds, gliding them across your clit and into your pussy. Drawing out the wetness he searches for.

There’s a trickle of blood that breaks through the seam of Yoongi’s lips, dripping down the front of your chest. He’s sloppy, unusual for him. Probably from the weeks away. You stay stagnant, letting Yoongi do as he pleases.

“Lay back,” Yoongi pushes you down before you feel his lips pressing kisses on your thighs. He continues to press two fingers into you while he reaches for your nipple, swirling around the hardening bud.

You close your eyes as you let out a shuddering breath. Your entire body is warming up, aching silently for more. Maybe he misses you?

“Do you want me to touch you more?” The voice is so low you can barely hear it over the heavy rain outside. When his touch does everything to ignite that burning sensation inside, how can you not want more?

“Yes,” you whimper when another kiss lands on your inner thigh. You feel your pussy tighten from the want, the need.

“Yes?” He questions, as his fingers pinch down hard on your nipple. It sends bolting zaps of pain through you, making you yelp at the action.

You feel his plunging fingers curl up inside you and drag against your walls. Your legs move on their own accord, body only reacting to the joyous sensation.

“Oh God, yes! Please touch me!” You plead.

Once your desperate words leave your mouth, he latches onto your clit, sucking the sweet tender bud eagerly. He pairs it well with the pace of his fingers in your aching core, possessive hand roaming your front as his body slots between your legs.

Your curious eyes travel downward to spy Yoongi’s black hair nuzzled between your thighs and feverishly licking at your leaking arousal. It takes everything in you to not place your hands in his hair, you know he doesn’t like being touched. But it looks so soft, so long and pretty. 

“I don’t want you to ever think about being bitten by anyone else,” he growls. “Your blood is mine and mine only.” You feel your leg being lifted enough for Yoongi’s fangs to pierce the skin on your inner thigh.

His words and actions make you whimper. Yoongi’s tongue laps over the bleeding blood on your skin.

“I won’t,” you affirm as you toss your head to the side. Absentmindedly your fingers thread through his hair, it feels like the finest of silks. “I only want you to bite me, Lord Yoongi.”

Your confession pleases him. He replaces his fingers with his tongue, diving it deep into your leaking hole. A moan slips from your mouth while your fingers fasten a lock in his hair. Lewd noises spill into the air from the vampire sucking and licking at your core, devouring the taste of you.

Doing what he says always grants you intense pleasure. Being good tends to satisfy you, you realized that a long time ago. Once Yoongi draws you agonizingly close to a climax, he withdraws his pursuit. Leaving you in a cloud of haze.

‘Is that it?’ you think to yourself. Why the sudden stop? Did you do something wrong?

Yoongi reluctantly pulls from you, forcing your hands off his hair with a sinister smile. Blood and arousal is smeared across his mouth and chin.

“What’s wrong?” you whisper the question.

You’re left huffing and puffing as you feel your orgasm slipping away from you. His menacing stare down doesn’t ease your mind and you feel your body shriveling up from under his scorching red eyes.

“Time to learn your lesson.”

Yoongi manages to pull your body up the bed to the headboard. Fastening two hard metal cuffs to each of your wrists. You’ve been here once before in a playful gig, but the motivation behind Yoongi’s tone sends a shiver to your spine.

You obey, as you should, while the darkness of the drapes shroud around the bed. You’re left with red glowing eyes staring straight down at you once again. His ethereal features, as beautiful as they are, frighten you to say the least. There's anger swirling inside of him. The angel you view Yoongi at shows how the cut of his eyes are deadly, the shape of his jaw is sharp and the curve of his lips stands against the casted shadows of the dark. You feel the anxious fear bubbling up inside your body, a spike of nerves setting aflame.

“What?”

He can read you like a book. Heart pinging higher than the normal rate. A confused quirk of your brows. Even the clearing of your throat and desperate breaths have him understanding your senses. Your body language tells him everything he needs to know about your fear.

“Brianne!” Yoongi snaps his fingers together as he calls upon a servant.

On cue, the door to his room opens and closes. She walks as punctually as ever, hands clasped in front of her apron as she curtsy bows to the vampire.

“My Lord,” she smiles. Paying you no mind as you lay naked and latched to Yoongi’s bed. “How may I aid you?”

“My puppet here is in need of a lesson. Care to participate?”

“It would be an honor,” Brianna bows.

Unspokenly, she begins to shed her clothes piece by piece. Yoongi hums to himself as he does the same. You are left strapped there, witnessing the entire event in confusion.

It’s as if this has been done before. You watch with worry as Brianne steps out of her skirt and pulls out the ties of her hair, allowing it to cascade around her shoulders. She steps toward the bed, eyes nearly lifeless, as she glances at you. There’s several, very visible, bite wounds on her body.

Quickly, Yoongi meets Brianne from behind. His hands guide her atop the mattress as she kneels near your feet. You curl up further, drawing your legs into yourself as your mind races with endless possibilities of what’s about to happen.

“Puppet?”

You flinch, very noticeably, at the bark of your nickname. You hadn’t realized how on edge your nerves are until now.

Yoongi follows behind Brianne, being sure to peer over her shoulder at you with his ruby eyes. Brianne is displayed before you, legs spread apart as she kneels, tits in full view. Yoongi’s crafty and daft hands sliding across her front and touching every piece of her. It’s a taunting scene, mentally riling you up inside.

“I want you to know,” Yoongi begins with a devilish low growl, “How easy it is,” he pushes aside Brianne’s hair to expose her neck, “For us to take a whore.”

Yoongi latches his mouth down on Brianne, forcing a muffled groan out of her throat. He bites, and bites, and bites, until there’s a chain of red leaking down her shoulder and arm. Some meet the mound of her breast, where Yoongi happily is cupping with his own hand while the other is gliding down her front and rubbing circles on her clit.

You watch in shame and fear. Seeing the way Brianne thrives from the mutilating hands and mouth of the Lord. Pleasure crosses her face, pain and ecstasy. She has no embarrassment with the noises that leak out of her. You swear you see her face mocking yours as you turn away.

“Look at me,” you hear the demanding growl of Yoongi.

But the burning heat of anger tingles your face. You fear disobeying him though. It only can make things worse.

“Puppet!” he growls over Brianne’s moans. Yoongi pushes Brianne down on her hands, her head closer to where you curl up against the headboard. “Look at what I am doing!”

You hesitantly glance over, hating the scene you see. Yoongi’s possessive hands scratch Brianne’s back as he lines himself behind her. There’s blood covering his front, smearing down his chest as his mouth gaps open. You squirm uncomfortably. As much as you loathe what’s happening, how your heart is thumping with disbelief and hatred, it bothers you even more that it turns you on.

Yoongi spits down at the junction between Brianna and himself and lathers his cock with his free hand. He slots himself inside her roughly, pulling out a loud moan from Brianne and forcing tears to swell in your eyes.

“Look at me!” He commands again, and this time you stare at his glowing eyes. 

Locked in and afraid to move. Sure you can see Brianne through the edges of your sight, you can see the way Yoongi’s abs flex with each harsh thrust he inflicts on her, the way her audible noises fill the room just like the way Yoongi’s cock fills her pussy.

He keeps his stare with you, eyes threatening. “How do you feel when I choose someone else? To make them feel this good while I feed and fuck them? Do you think you’re so special to go around and give yourself up like Brianne here?” He grunts between breaths, making sure to give Brianne a good ramming as her hips get pulled back into him. 

Yoongi continues to speak to you, “Do you want to end up like this?” He quizzes you again. He forces Brianne to flip over, revealing all those scattered bite marks on her body including his own. He arches her back by holding a hand under her. You can’t help but to flick your eyes down at it.

There’s a burning rage brewing inside of you, watching the way your Lord takes care of another. Bluntly in front of you as well. You don’t think you’re anything special, just a gift from the Church. There’s no doubt in your mind Yoongi has all the freedom to do what he pleases, but you’re mad that you aren’t the option when you were only raised to be such.

You remain silent and fear stricken. There’s upset and anger on your face and he can see that. Pathetically, you are his. You picked this. But desperately you want to only be his.

“No,” you whimper out. There’s a sad tear that rolls down the curve of your cheek.

“‘No’ what?”

There’s thorns forming inside of your throat, digging into it as if your voice doesn’t have freedom.

“No I don’t want this!”

Yoongi continues to thrust into Brianne, but his attention is on you. His hand closes down on her throat, squeezing slowly to prevent airflow.

“Have you learned?” His fingernails begin digging into Brianne and you hear her noticeable gasp. “That a whore is used by many and can be,” – he squeezes firmer, watching Brianne’s hands clasp around his wrist in protest – “killed with no feeling of guilt?”

There’s a gargle replacing the moans in Brianne’s mouth. Her eyes are bloodshot and full of tears. Yoongi pays no attention, he knows what he’s doing. But he keeps his ruby eyes on you, stalking your next actions.

“Yoongi, stop!” You shout with warning, “She’s going to die!”

“So?” His voice is cold.

“Stop!” you plead. “Stop it, stop it, stop it! I get it! I’m sorry! Just stop it!” Each hopeless syllable falling out of your mouth amplifies higher until you shout.

Yoongi finally halts his actions completely, releasing his grip on poor Brianne and pulling out of her. She gasps as her lungs fill with air, hands clutching her throat. Yoongi rolls her over, letting her legs hit the floor beside the bed and commands her to stand.

He analyzes her, wipes away the wet tears from her face before patting the side of her head. “Gather your things,” he beckons. “Please seek Lord Jimin and tell him you are but a gift from me.”

Brianne attempts a hoarse response but her throat is far too fragile to speak. She quickly gathers her belongings and rushes out of the room, holding her throat with a hand the entire time.

As the room falls silent, you can’t help but stare at the naked vampire in front of you. He’s thin, toned, skin milky pale due to his vampiric complexion and lack of sun. Cock stands out, still hardened as a hand runs along its length.

“Never become a whore, puppet. It’ll get you killed.”

Yoongi turns to look back at you, seeing how shriveled up you’ve become. He knows the power he holds and the loyalty you only wish to fulfill. It’s how you are raised. You want to act on your own actions, but Yoongi is the shotcaller. The owner of you.

“I’m only yours,” you state with a nod. 

Like lightning, Yoongi returns to you. Finger’s dipping into your cunt again. He groans with the seeping wet arousal leaking from you, making sure to comment on how you must have been turned on all along. He pushes deep inside your needy walls, stoking and thrusting his fingers at a quick pace almost as if he wants you to cum right then and there. His tongue works on your clit, swirling delicately around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

The pleasure between your legs causes you to tremble, Yoongi’s name falls out of your mouth as you tug on the cuffs chaining you to the bed. You’re beginning to feel the start of your delayed climax from before. Your breaths become shallow pants while you can’t help but ride Yoongi’s mouth desperately.

Your hazy mind takes away your active awareness and forces you to enjoy the senses you hear, feel, smell, taste, and see. Yoongi works his way up past your navel, peppering kisses on his pursuit to your clavicles. His teeth glide over your skin only enough to scratch you as you whimper from the loss of his tongue.

Somehow you end up on your knees and straddling Yoongi’s pelvis. He flipped you quickly to slide himself under you. The chains twist, forcing your wrists together. His hair fans out around his head as he rests on the pillow, eyes lazily looking up at your hanging breasts. You feel the cold hard hands on your hips as he leads you onto his cock, letting you slide against his length and spread your arousal on him.

You use your arm to muffle your moan as he slips his tip inside of you. The promise of his length inside of you makes you eager so you press down. Letting an inch deeper before he pulls you back up to begin the process again.

Yoongi leans up from under you to latch his mouth on one tit, sucking harshly at your nipple before sinking his fangs enough to draw blood. The sting hurts, you whine on the impact as he simultaneously draws your hips down onto him. Stuffing his thick cock inside your tight cunt.

You want to lean on him for support but those blasted chains hold your position high. In reaction, you bite your own arm as you feel the way Yoongi fills you up and feeds on you. The joyous satisfaction you gain from pleasing the Lord is soon to follow.

Yeah, there is no way you wish to be a whore. Yoongi is more than enough.

“You like it. Don’t you, puppet?” Yoongi chuckles. He pulls on your hair sharply, twisting your head to the side to admire his earlier bite mark. “You like being my little puppet and filled up like this, huh?” Yoongi grinds his hips into you, his other hand firmly guiding your body to ride him.

You’re left breathless, painfully in pleasure, but fully enjoying being filled to the brim by his cock. The recklessness of his grip on your hair and bleeding from his beautiful bites. It’s so devilishly good, you could never wish to be anything more than his puppet. 

“Ah, please,” you groan. The sound of skin against skin resonates throughout the darkened room. It’s mingled with your beautiful cries and his low guttural grunts. 

“I love it,” you confess.

You don’t ever want to be used to getting filled so well. You don’t want to be curious about the other princes and how they would treat you. Something about Yoongi is exactly what you need, you just never knew before. Is the lesson supposed to make you have this realization?

Yoongi releases a low groan against your skin, murmuring, “you feel so fucking good. You taste so fucking good.”

Once again, Yoongi sinks his teeth in you. The pain draws you closer to your impending orgasm and you yelp outloud. 

His thrusts become even more determined. Your chest arches into him as you tug on the cuffs that limit your hand movement. The noise from the headboard thuds rhythmically against the wall as your cunt clenches.

“Cum on me,” you hear the words tickle your ears. Yoongi’s hand wraps around your head and leads you into a bloody, searing kiss. He hushes your moans as his tongue dives past your teeth.

Metabolic tasting liquid seeps into your taste buds but you aren’t focused on the flavor. The cradling hand on your cheek and gentle soft strokes of his fingers on your hips are. The deepened kiss, full of lust and passion, sends you to overdrive as you whimper through your crashing orgasm.

Your legs shake against his sides in the same pace of your walls gripping his cock. Your blood trickles down on Yoongi’s chest as you ride out the waves of pleasure. Wet squelching sounds happen at the intersection between you and him as his thumb runs circles against your clit.

You feel your eyes fluttering shut as you groan. Your rolling orgasm kicks your body into realizing how much strain it’s handling. The harsh mixture of pain and pleasure. Your body is beginning to fall limp, the life and energy inside of you finally hitting their max. You want to collapse but Yoongi continues to thrust into you, perhaps chasing his own high.

“Ah,” you breathe as Yoongi’s mouth detaches from yours. His eyes focus on the mess of arousal on his lap, the way your cunt disappears his cock entirely. There’s a vice grip on your hips now, all you can do now  is be a toy for him.

A puppet, so he’d say.

Your head begins to spin as your vision fades into darkness. The last thing you see is the beautiful features of Yoongi, enjoying full on gratification from your body. Blood covered across his smooth poreless skin and black raven hair. 

moodboard credit: @kth1

© 2024 All rights reserved under @kth1​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This TUMBLR and AO3 are the ONLY places my fics are posted.

[jupiter-esque]

Hi!!! I saw that you write for Howls and I was wondering if we could get some hcs in how his so cares for him? Whether that be after a tough day physically or mentally or silly pampering him. How does Howl want and receive his comfort?

Preen

note: sort of went on an unofficial hiatus lol, but im finally on holiday yippee :)))) anyway i'm sure I've done this sort of request or smth before but I just love howl so much, he deserves all the love mwah <3

Warnings: nthn, just clingy howl and lots of sickening fluff.:3

Howl Pendragon x reader

It feels like the exhaustion is trying to imbed itself within his bones.

Howl struggles past the front door, His feet dragging as the castle door close with a resounding ding! signaling a new and hopefully much more calming scenery outside. He can't think of that now though.

bed, sleep, rest..now...

he could topple over at any moment.

The aroma of hot savory onion soup overtook his senses, he could almost feel the heady warmth of the liquid down his throat, burning away the worries and hardships of the day leaving him sated and drowsy. He could barely wait.

"Oh no you don't." Suddenly, soup didn't seem all that important.

Nimble fingers slip past his shoulders, pushing away his coat and fussing with its buttons. Howl's eyes landed on you blearily as he called out your name dreamily while reaching for you, his fingers smoothing out over any exposed skin he could reach and nuzzling into your blushing neck.

"Missed you." He mumbles quietly, his breath tickling you slightly. He pulled you in tighter as if trying to carve himself into you, trying to mold your bodies and souls into one. Too bad your offending apron and clothes prevented him.

"Poor baby." You coo as you brush through his hair, fingers carding through messily strewn strands and pressing into worn out muscles. "Okay time for a bath, then dinner."

"Nooo diner-"

"No, c'mere." You grinned with an air of finality, ushering him up the stairs ensuring he doesn't try flopping onto the cushy sofas in front of a grumbling calcifer, you're too used to his tricks and it comforts him to fall into your familiar routine. You sneak some more wood to the fire demon, a silent promise from his side to keep the thick onion soup bubbling and the bathtub upstairs equally toasty.

************************

Howl's staring into the soapy water, helplessly letting you wash his hair and scrub the grime off his skin, occasionally he plays with your free hand. you're both so very naked, so very vulnerable yet peacefully cleaning and gently caring for each other. A silly smile overtakes his lips as he remembers his flirtatious attempt for more...unorthodox intentions while you rolled your eyes and cheekily pushed him into the tub.

It should feel like a snug fit in the tub but magic has its perks and you're both settled into a pool of bubbles that would comfortably fit around three to four people. Howl shivers once more while you splashed water onto his richly dark hair. It hung limply over his eyes as you rubbed his back and pressed deliciously into his taught tendons, it took everything in him to not wantonly moan into your ear so he only let soft ragged breaths escape him as he gripped at your palms where you were sat behind him.

He could feel your smirk. You truly were his undoing.

Just as howl was about to let his eyes fall close and sleep to overtake him you pushed at his shoulders and complained loudly.

"Bath time is over you big oaf, get off i cant breath!"

Howl immediately saw his opening to tease you.

"I don’t know” He airly replied, slumping further into you while pretending to sleep and become dead-weight on top of your struggling form “It’s so comfortable here, I could just rest for a while~”

“Howl.” You warned.

“You wouldn’t mind right?”

You tugged at his hair with slight harshness

“Ouch!”

“Out! You’re clean. Now stop pouting.”

************************

Finally in fresh night-clothes, bellies full of soup and crunchy buttery toast, you're longing for sleep but the need to be in each others presence is stronger so you move to the living room in front of calcifer's hearth as he grumbles away about how much work he does around the castle. Howl shushes him with more firewood while you tuck little Markle to bed, before returning to cuddle up on the loveseat with a blanket wrapped round to stay cozy.

Eventually you find yourself preening through Howl's nearly-dry hair again whilst he settles his head against your chest and the rest of his body lays between your open thighs with his back facing you. All is quiet for a moment, only calcifer's crackling and your calming breaths fill the room as you rub at his scalp and untangle stray locks when a thought strikes you.

"Howl, dear."

"Hmm?" He hums tiredly letting one eye open.

"You know, you're a lot like a bird." You put a finger over his lips before he starts scowling about his more beastly raven-like form " In the sense that you always like your hair played with, a lot like how birds like their feathers preened. Especially by their bird partner."

You smiled down at him openly, he couldn't help but smile back.

"Oh? So that makes you my bird partner now, doesn't it?" He had one eyebrow raised while peeking up at you.

"Of course." You grinned, playing along.

"We'd make wonderful Swans then." He said with a serious expression.

"Why is that?" You blinked curiously, wondering why he was reaching closer for your face.

"Because they mate for life.''

and he followed his silent promise with a deep kiss.

BONUS:

“You know, I think you’d make for a wonderful peacock instead. Show off.” You muttered

“Quiet now, you love me.”

:))))

[skipblebee]

It's another sunny day at Cang Qiong mountain sect. Shang Qinghua has just delivered a bunch of writing materials to Qing Jing as requested by Peak Lord Shen. On his way back one of the disciples stops him and he recognises her to be Ning Yingying, one of the peak lord's favoured disciples. "Shishu," she smiles at him "Shizun is playing songs for us on his guqin! Would you like to stay and listen?"

Shang Qinghua weighs his options and figures he might as well rest his legs, he's got a lot to do once he's back at An Ding Peak and hey!! He might as well get a treat for his delivery!! It was literally a last minute thing that wasn't even FILED for properly but whatever, he thinks, it's not everyday someone would get an invitation to listen to Shen Qingqiu playing his guqin! And from one of his favourite disciples? Oh he's in luck, this is like getting front row tickets to your favourite band!!

So Shang Qinghua makes his way towards a garden close to the disciples' music room, where a bunch of eager students listen to their shizun's wonderful playing. He really is as talented as they say,, nimble fingers gently plucking at each string. You can feel the love and emotion he has for each song pour into how he plays it.

Shang Qinghua leans against a tree as Ning Yingying makes her way to sit next to Luo Binghe, right in front of the crowd, and he can't help but smile at the sight of them. Shen Qingqiu plays a melody that the other peak lord had heard once or twice. Some song about falling in love in spring.

His head sways to the relaxing tune, and he closes his eyes. The cool breeze causes the tree branches to sway, the sound only adding to the charm of the evening.

The song eventually reaches a crescendo. Shang Qinghua, Peak Lord of An Ding, for a moment forgets about his harsh sect sibling and internally praises his skills! For someone as mean and snarky as him, he can play as gentle as the spring breeze itself!

It is when the crescendo of the song is reached that Shang Qinghua's life changes forever. It was just a small detail, and none of the students noticed of course, because none of them were from the 21st century.

But just as the song reached an emotional height, there it was, absolutely unmistakable, a riff he would recognise anywhere, even if years into his new life.

The unmistakable riff of Buddy Holly by Weezer.

His eyes fly open and he nearly stumbles off the tree he was leaning against and onto the ground below.

WEEZER???? Buddy HOLLY???? He was almost certain he made it up, his mind was certainly playing tricks on him!! An auditory hallucinations of sorts maybe!

He looked up at the other peak lord's face, as tranquil as a gentle stream itself! He had blended it into the song so well that it almost sounded like it was a part of the original!!

"P-Pardon me!" He whispers to no one in particular "I should be getting back to my peak now! It's getting pretty late! Thanking the esteemed peak lord for helping me listen to his lovely playing! If he even is a peak lord,,,"

"Shizun!" He hears the disciples pour out their praise once he's done with the song "Shizun's embellishments to the song made it even better than it usually sounds!" The echoes of flattery follow his ears until he's finally out of sight.

He scurries out of there, no one really noticing his absence, and damn near trips and rolls down the entire length of the mountain with all the adrenaline coursing through him. 'Oh my gosh another transmigrator??' his inner monolgue screams 'are we sure I didn't make that up??? System oh my lord ARE YOU THERE??? SYSTEM ??? AREN'T YOU SUPPOSED TO TELL ME IF THERE'S ANOTHER TRANSMIGRATOR HERE?? I THOUGHT I HAD AUTHOR'S PRIVILEGE????? Oh my, maybe that's why people say he's been acting different lately,,, I really have to see for myself sometime. I haven't really interacted with him since the qi deviation..."

Needless to say, the other disciples at Qing Jing weren't phased by the An Ding peak lord mumbling to himself as he scurried down the path, it was a usual occurence anyway. Shang Qinghua on the other hand had a lot to think of once he returned to his peak,,,, this would certainly be,, very interesting,,,,

[fluffylino]

spiderman ! hyunjin

a soft little thought i had 🥹🌼

"stop you're distracting me" you whisper, goosebumps rising on your skin. tearing open the seasoning packet and emptying it into the boiling pot of ramen. holding in a ticklish laugh.

his nimble fingertips trail up and down your back.

"pay attention to me then" he drags his voice out. snapping the elastic of your short pants. It makes you jump, turning around to scowl at him.

"aren't you tired?" lightly smacking his covered chest. the skin tight suit textured to touch.

reminding you of how your beloved man was more than just your boyfriend. he was a hero.

he was your hero.

"from swinging all day and saving a couple of people? of course im tired..." hyunjin sighs. leaning towards you. eyes closing in exhaustion.

"...need my girlie to put me to sleep in her arms"

you smile softly. you'd be lying if you said you didn't want that.

"i'll put you to sleep after i finish eating my ramen"

"do you want to...eat some ramyeon?...with me" hyunjin whispers, eyeing you with playfulness. him and his tricks.

resting your palm on his chest and standing on your tiptoes, you gently tie his hair up into a messy ponytail with the hairtie you had kept handy on your wrist.

"take off the suit before you start feeling hot, baby"

distracting him by placing a soft kiss on his nose. he nods. laughing sweetly as his eyelids fluttered cutely.

"i'll sit next to you till you're done eating then...can't sleep without you"

.

.

.

...maybe just maybe im writing a spidie jisung fic in secret...maybe? who knows? definitely not going crazy over sungie as spiderman!

[hawkinsbnbg]

For all the things those nimble hands could do, Eddie didn't know how to peel an orange without making a mess.

Steve always found it amusing how his husband could craft intricate pieces of artwork, but when it came to simple things, he suddenly became clumsy with flailing limbs and confused puppy eyes.

Despite his many attempts and determination, Eddie always failed in the end with ruined oranges clutched in his hands while juices spilling everywhere.

And Steve would eat them anyway. Because they didn't waste food, and because they loved each other at their best and their worst.

They were sitting on the couch with his feet in Eddie's lap as those deft hands rubbing and kneading the soreness away from his muscles.

"Wish I could learn how to do that," Eddie said while watching Steve peel the orange.

And you don't need to because I'm glad I can always do this for you, Steve wanted to say.

Instead, he tore the fruit in half and then shuffled into Eddie's lap.

As he fed his husband and himself section after section, he thought the aligned stars might as well have their names written on them.

Their fates were twining red strings, woven and knitted into a lovely knot.

"Teach me how to do it, sweetheart?" Eddie held him securely and pecked the corner of his lips.

"Peeling oranges?" Steve arched his eyebrow.

"Yeah, so I can pick out the white parts for you," Eddie gazed at him, warm like the Sunday morning when they slept in and cuddled while it was raining outside.

Steve met those chocolate eyes that filled his veins with honey and turned his inside into molasses.

Their love was a gentle thing, but no less powerful.

Just like an orange. It was built to share with many pulps and juicy flesh. And yet, its skin was unyielding, stubborn to a fault.

Even Steve had had to look up for a few tricks to take it apart.

And perhaps, that also applied to their love. To reach the rewarding part, one had to work for it.

Nothing had ever been easy for them.

But here, sitting in Eddie's lap and tasting the same orange with him, Steve felt like all those years, all their pains and losses had finally paid off.

"I can pick out the white parts myself," Steve pointed out gently.

"And what kind of husband am I to not help you with it?" Eddie countered with an easy smile. "We're one half of each other's, darlin'. I'm not gonna let you do anything alone."

"Even peeling oranges?" Steve leaned closer to whisper into those plump lips.

"Especially peeling oranges," Eddie gave him a citrus kiss, sour and sweet, fond and tender.

And Steve was putty in those loving hands.

Maybe, he thought dimly as Eddie took off his shirt, they could make marmalade together next time.

[monamipencil]

han + edging !

genre; nsfw, mdni <3 | a/n; what a menace man. we need to make bratty dom! a thing just for this guy. not proof-read!

“please... please, please!” your broken moans rebound on the walls of your bedroom but it doesn’t phase your boyfriend at all. 

jeonghan licks up a stripe on your wet, sopping cunt, causing you to buck your hips. if your hands aren’t cuffed by the damn pink handcuffs that you asked him to buy, you would push his face into your core. but unfortunately you can only writhe and let out pathetic moans as he has his way with you. 

the warmth pools up in your stomach again, but you know you won’t get to cum anytime soon. what did you do to deserve this? nothing. matter of fact, you were obedient enough to patiently wait the entire day for his cock. and jeonghan couldn’t help but test just how desperate you are for him. 

he sucks on your little bundle of nerves, smiling menacingly at the way your body reacts. your legs tremble in his hold, and your high-pitched whines alert him of your impending orgasm. with one last suck, he pulls away, immediately earning a cry from you. 

he smiles down at you, meeting your bleary eyes with his mischievous ones. you sniff, pouting at him before turning your head away. he coos and chuckles, pressing a kiss to your cheek. he draws his fingers up your arms, grazing them ever so lightly before resting them near your bra straps. he tugs on one of them before letting it snap back, earning a hiss from you.

with a chuckle, he kisses the spot before undoing your bra and freeing your breasts. “fuck,” you’re completely naked under him now, and your soft nipples pebble up under his touch. jeonghan smirks, noticing that you’re still not looking at him. with a low hum, he captures one of the buds in his mouth, swirling his tongue and harshly sucking on it before releasing it with a wet sound.

you don’t look at him, determined to not fall for his tricks. jeonghan only smiles, moving onto your other nipple, doing the same but this time he slips a hand between your thighs. you’re still sensitive from being denied multiple times and his nimble fingers feel like both heaven and hell. your breath hitches when he continues his ministrations, slipping one finger into your core. his thumb rubs at your clit as he pumps his middle finger in and out of you.

you bite down the moans, threatening to escape from your lips. you won’t give in. only a sigh falls to his ears as he continues to draw circles on the nub. but he stops, pulling his fingers out. jeonghan can only laugh as you stand up — try to stand up and gather your belongings. “no, no, wait!” his laughter reverberates from his chest to your back when he back hugs you, pulling you back the bed.

“such an impatient baby,” he starts, kissing your frown. he pulls off his clothes and you keep your eyes off his cock, only glaring at him. “I wanted to make you cum on my cock.” brushing his knuckles against your cheek, he presses another kiss to your forehead.

“oh? you don’t want it? it’s o-” you cut him off by making him lay on the bed. you straddle his hips, directly seating your heat on his cock that rests on his stomach. he doesn’t even try to hide his moan, shamelessly expressing his desire when he feels your wetness on his hard cock. “oh fuck, angel.”

you grind on his cock, spreading your wetness on the underside of his cock. the ridges and the veins of his cock stimulated your clit and the way his girth spread your lips has you rolling your eyes. it isn’t much but the edging has you more sensitive than normal.

his soft hands rest on your hips, helping you move on his cock. he mirrors your fucked out expression and groans incoherent curses. jeonghan is perspective enough to notice even small changes in you but he completely overlooked just how desperate you are for him. his pretty pink tip oozes with precum and it mixes with your arousal. his cock throbs, hearing the wet noises and he presses down your hips, forcing you to apply more pressure. fuck, he’s so close, so-

with a loud moan, you reach your climax and move off his hips. the pleasure of cumming after being denied for so long knocks you out and your mind blacks out. jeonghan follows you, reaching his end too but you unintentionally and successfully ruined his orgasm. he groans, muttering an inaudible complain. but it falls deaf on your ears as slumber takes over your body.

a soft smile decorates his features when he notices you’ve fallen asleep (he stared at you for a few minutes to confirm that you have not died). he cleans you up and adjusts you on the bed properly. with a kiss to your forehead and pats to your back, he lays beside you.

even though you unintentionally gave him blue balls, you’re still his angel, resting peacefully in his arms. (expect him to pull a jeonghan after you wake up, being all dramatic till you get down on your knees and suck his balls empty).

tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia @dokyeomkyeom @bangantokchy @jespecially

@asyre @armycarat2612 @bewoyewo (send an ask to be added on the taglist!)

[kurishiri]

chaotic night . . . “ are you scared of me .ᐣ ”

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— this is nica schwartz's chaotic night (halloween) story, which is available if you obtain his card, an early clear bonus alongside william. you can view the tl for william's story here [@.judesmoonbeauty]!

— cw: some suggestiveness, like physical touch or lack of personal space.

(I’m usually able to sleep by this time, but that’s hard to do now...)

Everyone having consumed the extract made from the queen of the night flower, the party was disbanded thereafter.

(I don’t know what might happen, so I can’t go out of my room.)

I did as Victor had told me, returning to my room without a fuss, but——

(I’m worried about everyone, and that’s keeping me wide awake.)

(But at the very least, I can do as I’m told and not leave my room.)

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

Nica: Guten Abend, Spatzi.

Kate: Nica?

(What could he need this late at night...)

Remembering Victor’s words, I hesitated for a moment, but...

Nica: Could you open the door?

(It should be fine, right?)

The moment I opened the door, Nica nimbly slipped in like a cat.

Kate: Ah——

Nica: I’ll be here a little while then. It’s a pretty night, isn’t it.

When I looked at him, I felt a certain something was a bit off.

Kate: Your eyes...

Nica: Pretty awesome, right? They became completely red.

N: Ring’s eyes are the same color too. I guess we just aaalways have a knack for matching like this.

As he sat on the bed, I couldn’t catch even a glimpse of his normal blue amid the red that dyed his eyes.

Kate: It’s because of the extract, right? Do you feel unwell, or...

Nica: Not at all. In fact I feel better than ever.

N: I was wondering what sort of reaction I had, so to think only my appearance would change...

N: I was more so expecting the heightening of our abilities.

He looked down at himself, finding anything else that could have changed, when I realized yet another strange feature.

Kate: Were your teeth always that sharp, Nica...?

Nica: My teeth?

With a grin, he lifted the corners of his mouth, and there were indeed two that stood out, elongated into sharp points.

Nica: These are fangs, aren’t they?

Kate: Fangs!?

Nica: I was thinking how something hit me.

N: But I think that’s about all? Other than that, I’m the good old me.

N: So you have nothing to worry about, Spatzi.

He had a soft expression on his face, and while I was worried about those unfamiliar eyes and his fangs,

he invited me to sit beside him, so I decided to do just that.

Kate: So, what brought you all the way here?

Nica: I was thinking you might’ve been bored.

N: You know, seeing as you were told to not leave the room?

N: But since it’s you, I figured you might be worrying about others and all, right?

N: As far as I could tell, everyone seemed fine, and nobody seemed to be in any dire state.

(So he came to tell me this because he figured I would be worried.)

I felt calm from his hand caressing my cheek, and then they lowered down to my chest——

Nica: Süßes oder Saures.

Kate: Huh?

Nica: I realized I hadn’t said it yet. So go ahead and pick one.

N: A treat? Or a trick?

I was surprised at his sudden words, causing me to pull back.

(I didn’t have any treats prepared though!)

Nica: Could it be you didn’t prepare any?

His teasing voice made me stand up and try to leave.

Kate: I can go to the kitchen and...!

Nica: But you were told to not leave this room, right?

His words and the arms that restrained me seemed to control that.

Nica: And with that, a trick it is.

Kate: Wah——

He pulled on my arm so strong that I lost my balance, and Nica lifted me up,

and sat me atop his knee so I was straddling him.

Kate: Let me down...

I tried to get myself down, but he held onto my waist, so I couldn’t move.

Nica: Well, regardless whatever you chose, I didn’t really need any treats and all that.

We were so close I started to feel shy, and I felt heat rise on my face.

I placed my hands on both his shoulders, trying to bend back to create more distance between us when...

Nica: What, could it be you’re getting shy now?

Kate: That...

Nica: Oh, what an adorable little Spatzi, getting so red over that.

N: There there, shyness go away.

Kate: Stop treating me like a child!

Nica: Don’t you think it’s more like cheering up an angry cat rather than treating you like a kid?

I resisted against how he patted my head gently, as though he were comforting a crying child, when...

Kate: mn...

Nica: See, I was right, you really are like a cat. There there now.

This time he tickled beneath my chin like he would do to a cat, and I tried to swat his hand away...

Nica: Ow——

All of a sudden, Nica pressed his hand against his lips and looked down.

Kate: Are you okay!?

Nica: I’m fine, I just cut myself a little...

It was then I saw blood seep out from where his fangs pricked the corner of his mouth,

and while trying to wipe the blood off, he ended up licking some of it.

Nica: Aren’t I like a vampire now?

Red eyes, sharp fangs, and blood from his mouth.

What was supposed to be a frightening sight seemed to change into something more fantastical with the way the moonlight streamed in.

(I...can’t take my eyes off of him.)

His eyes then widened at me as he was patting my head.

Nica: I think I figured out why I have fangs.

N: I’ve been feeling this unbearable urge to bite since a while ago.

Kate: What!?

His lips traced the back of my neck as he took a breath...

Nica: I might end up activating my ability without knowing,

N: so let me bite you here.

Kate: Wh—no, wai—ah——

He forcefully bit into me then.

Kate: ...!

(Ouch——ah...?)

Along with the pain, a sudden heat rose from within my body...

Nica: So? Did anything change?

Kate: ah——

The moment he caressed my cheeks, it felt so good my body ended up reacting.

(I feel dizzy...)

(It’s kind of like feeling intoxicated from alcohol? No...it’s more like...)

(——when he’s pleasuring me...)

I grabbed desperately on his clothes, and reflected in my unsteady gaze was an amused figure...

Nica: Haha, I see now.

...and I was met with a gaze laced with sadism.

Nica: So when my ability is heightened, you end up getting turned on.

Kate: No way...

(I have to get away——)

With what little strength I could muster, I tried to create more distance, when his fingers made their way to the ribbon at the back of my neck——

Nica: I wonder how many times I can bite you before you go insane?

He had a devilish smile playing on his lips, and I ended up swallowing, forgetting about the notion of resisting.

Kate: ah...

Just then, the ribbon came undone, leaving me to hold my shirt up in a panic as his fangs hovered over my collarbone——

(I...was wrong.)

I hadn’t broken my promise to leave the room, and yet I hadn’t thought about how letting someone in the room would pose dangers.

That, and of all people, to let in the one whose ability was to charm people...

Nica: I’ll make you feel the best you’ve ever known.

Until I lost my sanity and went mad...

——this night would not end.

Fin.

【Are you scared of me?】 Nica

masterlist🍒 ╱ ko-fi ☕️ ╱ comms🤍

END NOTES: fyi, guten abend means "good evening," and Süßes oder Saures means "trick or treat," at least according to the translation ikevil provided, haha. i always enjoyed vampire stories...! so i think it's nice cybird gave us a story where nica acts like a vampire, hehe.

i haven't translated nica in a hot minute so there were a bit of challenges in how i should portray him if that makes sense, but i hope i did him some justice! i'm hoping maybe i can try to translate his main story when it comes out, so i figured better get a bit of practice in these little bites as they come.